The Last War
by wintercandyapple
Summary: Nuclear war has devastated the Earth, destroying the nations and their people. And now, even one of the greatest superpowers is facing his death. This is America's account of his final hours on this dying planet as he reflects on what the Last War has done to humanity. One-shot.


Disclaimer: Do not own Hetalia .

Warning: This is a more serious and depressing type of fic. Except for a bit towards the end that's a bit hopeful. Maybe, not really. That said, read with an open mind, and even enjoy!

From the Author: So this oneshot is kind of like my interpretation of war and nuclear apocalypse, and it's fairly short, and takes place at the end of the "Last War." I apologize in advance for any minor errors that I may have missed. If this fic caught your attention, don't be afraid to leave a review. Feel free to share your thoughts about my writing, or nuclear disaster, or war in general. I hope there are more peace-minded people out there :) Thanks for all your time!

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Nuclear weapons always have and always will exist to serve one purpose and one purpose only: murder. Weapons by their very nature are meant to destroy, and nuclear weapons are no different, just with much more intensity. If America could just go back in time and change one thing in all of history, he would have stopped the development of those damn weapons. But that was impossible. It was far too late to change the past now.

America stood atop the pile of debris that was once a skyscraper in Washington D.C. The entire city had been wiped out with one blow. What used to be a vibrant city, bustling with life, was now no more than scattered rubble and ashes. The air was rotten and filthy; it hurt his lungs just to breathe. He couldn't even see the sun through the polluted atmosphere. There was not a single living thing, plant or animal, in sight. Nothing but ruins. Most of his country looked this way. Actually, most of the world look this way now. It seemed as if every hopeful thing, every thing man strove to create, had been obliterated just like that.

And America could feel his life, his whole essence ebbing away, slowly but surely. He was dying, he knew, but it was inevitable. There was nothing he could do to save himself at this point. Most of his body burned from the inside out, but he was well used to the pain by now. The most excruciating agony had ignited when the bombs first fell, ravaging his people and his nation. Those who had not been killed on the spot later died from radioactive poisoning in the ground and that was released into the air from the bomb. And it was that radioactivity that tortured America from the inside, as if acid were eating away at his organs. The once great superpower was beginning to fade away.

With nothing left of his country, it was only a matter of time before he too joined the other Americans and nations that passed through Death's Doors. Death was all there was left in this devastated world. But they had brought this on themselves, America knew that too. By putting their faith in those missiles, humanity as a whole created the means to their own destruction. Humanity had been erased by their own hands.

As he stood there, thinking, he then decided that he did not want to die here. It was too desolate, too lonely and eerie. But where else was he supposed to go? Then, almost subconsciously, he began to make his way to the American conference room, where the world meetings were held whenever he hosted them. Slowly, he forced himself to forget about the relentless pain and kept moving forward.

He thought back to the days just before war broke out. There had been a meeting, a world conference, and it was his turn to host. It began like any other meeting, with the nations bickering and arguing with each other. But what started out as a silly territorial dispute soon erupted into a vicious argument with nations shouting and cursing at each other. At that conference, all the little problems suddenly seemed extremely important and inflamed; things that could have been easily negotiated became part of the huge array. Sides were taken, and the stakes were set for the dawn of a new war. But in all honesty, America couldn't clearly remember what they had argued so vehemently about. He only remembered the fiery hatred that consumed all his fellow nations that day.

In the week following that heated conference, it was like everything happened all at once. There was so much chaos that America couldn't even recall who it was that launched the first nuke, but he did know that it only took one deployment to start that chain of cataclysmic events that plunge the world into a hellish nightmare. Every nation accused their own allies as spies and traitors, and nations who desperately tried to remain neutral were caught in the crossfire.

The nuclear weapons carried out their function with deadly precision. Once the first nuke was fired, there was no stopping the rest. Poland and Greece were the first to go, they died on the very same day, one week after the conference. It wasn't long before others joined them. The radiation was too much for Ukraine and Mexico, and Lithuania perished the day after they did. The whole South American continent was lost in a haze of confusion and devastation, plagued by death. Brazil, Chile, Argentina, Peru, and the others struggled to keep surviving, but in vain.

The Orient to the east was another scene of mass destruction. The catastrophic explosions blasted through the Asian nations, swallowing Taiwan, Vietnam, and Thailand. Hong Kong and Korea, too, were killed by the rain of bombs and its fires. Just as India fell, the Philippines, Malaysia, and Indonesia died battling the unstoppable wave of nuclear attacks. The Middle East and Africa witnessed a similar horror, Turkey, Egypt and Seychelles unable to make it through the bombardments and missiles. Radioactive material contaminated the land, doing away with any leftover stragglers.

In Europe, annihilation had been just as harsh and cruel. The Slavic nations dwindled, and then faded, and the Nordics and Baltics followed suit. Switzerland and Liechtenstein insisted upon neutrality, but the nuclear radiation spread and destroyed them as well. Not even poor Sealand was spared from contamination. The missiles terminated Austria and Hungary, and even the ex-nation Prussia fell victim to an explosion. The war took Spain's life shortly after Romano perished at his brother's side.

When Canada fell, all shreds of hope and sanity left in America died with him. The monstrous war raged on, engulfing the planet. Of all the wars the world had ever seen in history, Earth had never experienced warfare on a scale such as this. Those who were not G8 simply could not endure the battles.

Eventually, even those in the G8 were sapped of their strength. Italy succumbed to his critical wounds, leaving Germany distraught and even a bit hysterical. France couldn't pull through the final, bleak days of the war.

The worst part for America now was knowing that it was some of his missiles that quelled the planet. He did not know how many deaths were on his head, however. He did not know which nation had struck him the hardest either. They all knew it was wrong, but that didn't stop them from firing those weapons once the war went underway. All the nations had felt the fear grip their hearts, and fear has been known to bring out the worst in humanity. And it could be said that the Last War was the embodiment of humanity at its worst.

As America trudged forward, he wondered if he was the last nation left. It was very likely and highly probable in fact. There were no more missiles left, and the war had ended only because there was no one left to fight its battles. Perhaps Death had already claimed the others who had been barely alive at the conclusion of the war.

At last he had come to the place where it all began, where the lavish conference building had once stood. But now, not a single trace of it could be seen; it was just an empty clearing. The entire structure of the building had been blown away on impact of the bomb. He was sure this was the place, but he looked around for anything recognizable anyway. When he did, America blinked, and lifted his glasses to rub his eyes before checking again and doing a double take. As he scanned his surroundings, he saw five figures heading towards him, each coming from a different direction. When he squinted at each individual, he identified Britain, Russia, Germany, China, and Japan all slowly plodding, or rather limping, to the clearing.

At first, America believed that they had come to kill him-he had fought with and against these nations during the war, but in the closing weeks, it seemed to be every nation for themselves. Perhaps they decided it was time to get rid of him once and for all. Under normal circumstances, America would have been worried, afraid even, but he would have fought back defiantly. Now, however, he had no energy left for a struggle. If they had come to take his life, so be it. He was dying anyway, maybe this way it would be a quick death, not as torturous.

But as the five nations drew nearer into the clearing, America noticed that the hatred and loathing that had been in their eyes throughout the battles was now gone. Instead, all of their expression were soulless, grim, hollow, empty, broken, crushed, and defeated. Riddled all over any exposed skin on each of them were ugly scars, wounds, and burns, while their clothes were bloodstained and coated in dirt. And America imagined that he looked no different. The five of them stopped in the clearing within a few feet of each other, creating a ring as they gathered in front of America.

"W-what are you all doing here?" stammered America, still cynical.

"I don't know about everyone else," replied Japan grudgingly, "But I decided that it would be best to come here, where the beginning of the end took place. I came on the off chance that you would be here too. I'd rather die here than on my dead land all by myself."

China nodded in agreement, and added mournfully, "There's nothing left of my country. It's destroyed, all of it. I couldn't stay in that accursed graveyard any longer, aru. I was losing my mind. What's left of it, at least."

"Mein nation is too poisoned to stay in and this is the only place I could think of," Germany murmured in despair, "Not that it matters...I'm dying anyway."

"Da, we're all dying," Russia said dreadfully, "Mother Russia is filled with nothing but the dead. It's unbearable and I couldn't stand it there anymore."

"Staying on my bloody radioactive island would drive anyone mental," Britain muttered bitterly, "I had to come here."

"I can't be of much help to you guys. Thanks for coming all the way over here, but it was all for nothing. I'm fading too," America frowned sadly. Just as he finished, as if to prove his point, his legs gave out, unable to support his body up any longer, and he fell on his hands and knees.

"America!" Japan cried with genuine concern. But America just held up his hand and took a deep breath, then rolled over and lay on his back with his arms spread out. Japan sighed, and then gave a sad smile. "It wasn't all for nothing," he said softly as he positioned himself like America, lying on the hard ground. The others exchanged brief glances, and then did the same next to them.

For a moment, the six nations just lay there, not saying a word, until Germany broke the silence. "We did this," he murmured sullenly. No one needed him to clarify what he meant by "this."

"Hai. We started this and now we're paying the price," Japan said with remorse.

"This shouldn't have happened. We're all bloody fools," Britain uttered wretchedly. Sorrow filled his voice as he stared up into the ashen sky.

"Yeah, fools," agreed America solemnly.

"It wasn't supposed to end like this. I didn't mean for this to happen..." Russia whispered, holding back his grief.

"No one did. No one really wanted anyone to die, just for the sake of dying, but here we are," Germany said with a lamenting tone. Even as he spoke, he felt his heart beat grow increasingly uneven.

"Yes, here we all are," echoed China, expression melancholy, "You know what? I forgive you guys." Everyone turned their heads towards him, completely shocked.

"You-really?" gaped America.

"After all we've done?" inquired Britain, surprised.

"Of course, aru. This is partly my fault, too, and I don't want any hard feelings burdening my heart if I'm going to die here," China declared ardently.

"Well spoken," smiled Japan, "Then I forgive you too. All of you."

"Me too," beamed America with all the cheerfulness he could muster.

"And me," Britain concurred.

"Me as well," Germany nodded.

"Da, so do I," Russia said.

Another silence followed, but this time not as crestfallen. Their bodies still ached and burned, but the burden was much easier to endure together. The world around them had fallen apart at the seams, and they were all that was left.

"Italy..." Germany murmured, "You won't have to wait much longer..." Suddenly, the German nation became very tired, and all he wanted to do was sleep. It was an eternal slumber, he knew, but he found that he was okay with that. For once he cracked a smile as pictured his cheery best friend and whispered, "I'm coming."

"Germany?" America lifted his head, but then he saw the German's eyes were closed, never to open again. Japan took a shaky breathe, but said nothing.

"I'm sorry," China said softly, "But I can't hold on much longer. I just wanted to say, thank you...for forgiving me too." He barely had enough strength to say his last words, but he was still audible. Japan saw his hand go slack, and swallowed back a lump in his throat.

"I'll see you on the other side, old friend." Japan's voice wasn't depressed, however, there was a slight hint of wistfulness in his acceptance. Then he turned his head to look at America. "America-san..." he smiled weakly.

Tears welled in America's eyes, but he blinked past them and did his best to smile back for Japan's sake. A moment later, the rise and fall of the Japanese nation's chest slowed, until it stopped altogether.

"This is it for me too," Britain murmured sadly. He closed his eyes and said quietly, "Goodbye, little brother."

"Iggy..." America's lip trembled, but Britain never heard him.

Russia shuddered, and then paused, as if pondering something, before saying, "You know, I never thought it would end like this. Never thought I'd die beside you this way."

"Me neither, but here we are, the two of us, the last ones left," America chuckled at the irony that they were both strong enough to outlast the others. "But, I don't mind dying with you," he added sincerely.

"Da, I don't either. It's better, much better, than dying alone. It's nice to be able to talk to someone," Russia agreed. "For once, I don't feel all that lonely..." As his voice trailed off, America heard his raspy breathes grow fainter, until there was only silence.

America choked back a sob, as he lay on the cold, hard ground, utterly alone this time, knowing that he was the very last one. The only comfort was hoping that it wouldn't be for long, judging by how feebly his own heart beat in his chest. A few minutes later, his eye lids became surprisingly heavy, and his senses grew numb. Almost no feeling could be registered from his limbs, and simply breathing in and out became an endeavor in itself. So this was it, so this was the end. He had heard myths and stories, seen movies, read books, about the final threshold, death. All his life as a nation, he wondered what it would be like for him, but he supposed he was about to find out. Whatever was waiting for him in the afterlife, it couldn't be that bad, especially after the hell he had just witnessed in this last war, and especially if he knew his friends were waiting for him there. Yeah, it won't be so bad.

And so, with a warm and open heart, cleared of any last anxieties, everything around him faded away as America, the last nation, passed beyond this forsaken Earth.

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_If we don't end war, war will end us. _

_-H.G. Wells_


End file.
